


A Ferengi and a Vulcan Meet in a Café

by Diary



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Pass, Diners, Ferengi, Friendship, Gen, Interspecies, Interspecies Friendship, Minor Violence, Outer Space, Vulcan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 20:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8461066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: A look at the friendship between a Vulcan university student and a Ferengi waiter. Complete.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Star Trek.

T’Pree takes her usual seat at Darke’s Parasol System’s Café.

Zonk, one of the waiters, comes over. “Your usual?”

“Yes,” she answers.

He leaves and soon reappears with a plate of greenbread, Alfarian hair pasta, and Jibelian berry salad along with a glass of sucrose-mixed water. After setting it down, he sits across from her. “Next week, Doringa and I wed.”

Taking a sip of her water, T’Pree replies, “I offer my congratulations. What day specifically will it take place?”

“The fourth,” he answers. “If she doesn’t have another reaction to the clothes, I plan to bring her. You two could meet.”

“That’s a possibility,” she agrees.

“How was class today?”

“It became somewhat heated between Thelin and Delphinine over whether Talas and Immanuel Kant displayed fundamental commonalities in their philosophies.”

“Did they?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t contribute,” he scolds.

“Delphinine made an observation about Kant I had not considered. I might need to incorporate it into my end of year thesis.”

Sighing, he shakes his head. “We’ve been moderately busy today. I managed to negotiate the delivery fee for Romulan ale down by 2%.”

“Impressive. Did you lose any profits today?”

“You could stand to be a little less passive-aggressive.”

“I’m not passive-aggressive.”

“Yes, you are,” he grumbles. “And yes, one of the customers insisted I was cheating them, and Hayes gave them a discount. You don’t truly understand how hard it was to leave Ferenginar, the fatherless fifth son of an indentured female, and find and keep a job. To rise as far as I have, that’s impressive.”

“Yes, it is, and I’ve frequently acknowledged your struggle will always be abstract to me. That has nothing to do with the fact you endure the consequences of discriminatory stereotyping and often choose to simply accept it.”

“My circumstances are a contributing factor to how I handle such things. You, on the other hand, you refuse to engage in significant discussion with almost anyone, even about the subject you love.” He quickly says, “Poor choice of words, but my point stands.”

“Perhaps, my circumstances are a contributing factor, too,” she replies.

“What circumstances?”

“Will Doringa come live with you or continue to live with her brothers and sister?”

He briefly frowns before answering, “I’ve secured quarters on the Taladega station, but it’ll take a week or two for us to be able to move in. Until then, she’ll continue living with them, and I’ll keep living in my apartment. Na’dar will be happy when I’m finally gone.”

“I imagine he’ll be happy until his new flatmate attempts to solve things by means other than bribery.”

“Bribery can always be the answer,” Zonk insists. “Every being has their price.”

“Indeed? And what is mine?”

“Believe me,” he mutters, “I wish I knew.”

A gaggle of schoolchildren comes in before she can respond, and he hurries over to them.

She finishes her meal, leaves a tip, and departs.

…

On the fourth, T’Pree arrives marginally later than normal.

Seeing her, Zonk grins, waves, and hurriedly comes over with his hand in the hand of a slightly taller Ferengi woman dressed in a simple, somewhat ill-fitted tunic. “Doringa, my bride, this is the dear customer and friend, T’Pree, I’ve told you so much about. T’Pree, this is my new bride, Doringa. Whether you acknowledge it or not, your tips have helped me marry her much sooner than I ever thought possible!”

T’Pree gives a polite nod and starts to reply but is cut off by Doringa tightly embracing her.

Immediately moving away, Doringa says, “Oh, I’m sorry! I forgot- Vulcans, and strangers, beside.”

“There’s no harm done,” T’Pree responds. “It’s gratifying to meet you, Doringa. I offer you my wishes your new life is satisfactory and fulfilling to you.”

Smiling toothily, Doringa says, “Oh! It’s so good to finally meet you in person, T’Pree. You’re even more pretty than your holograph. Zonk gave me thirteen latinum slips all for myself. Would you allow me to buy you your meal today?”

“Perhaps, you should you save your currency for something more directly useful or desirable to yourself,” T’Pree suggests.

“Nonsense,” Doringa says. “This is something I’d very much like to do. However, you and my husband might need to give me some directions. I still haven’t gotten much of a grasp of how money is handled.”

“I’d be honoured to share a meal with you,” T’Pree answers.

Zonk smiles softly at both of them.

…

While Zonk waits tables, Doringa and T’Pree talk.

“We might be seeing one another on your campus next year,” Doringa tells her. “I’ve been learning much from the interface, but I do better learning when real people teach me. I’m going to apply when the next semester starts.”

“If you wish it, I’ll help you do so,” T’Pree says. “Is there anything in particular you have a special interest in studying?”

“Clothes,” Doringa answers. “That medicine you recommended to Zonk for me has been working wonders. Besides wanting to look- What I’m wearing now is not what other females wear, the ones who do wear clothes,” she says with a small frown. “I don’t want to stand out even more than we already do.”

“I have a classmate who is majoring in cosmetics with a minor in textile artwork. Would you like me to see if I can set up contact between the two of you? I believe they might be able to help you.”

“That would be wonderful,” Doringa says. “Part of what I’m hoping to learn is how to properly make different items of clothing, along with knowing what kinds are in fashion. I’ve heard it’s not that different from cooking, and I’m a wonderful cook! Oh, do they have cooking classes? I need to start learning how to make different alien cuisines.”

“Yes,” T’Pree answers.

“Hopefully, you can come over, soon, and I can serve you,” Doringa says.

“That would be kind of you and Zonk.”

Zonk appears. “How is everything? Doringa, would you like some more Klingon tea?”

…

When T’Pree comes back, Zonk sets her usual down. “Thank you for being so friendly towards Doringa.”

“She’s an interesting, admirable woman.”

Smiling brightly, he asks, “How was your class?”

“I’m not sure Thelin and Delphinine wouldn’t have gotten into a physical altercation if Professor Klang hadn’t stepped in.”

“Aside from that, who was right?”

“They both had feasible interpretations of Surak’s text, although, up until the almost altercation, Thelin did do a better job at logically and concisely presenting-”

A loud noise causes Zonk to scream and T’Pree to tense. She scans the room, grabs Zonk’s wrist, and yanks him down onto the ground with her. Pulling him under the table, she clasps a hand over his mouth. “Bajoran and Cardassian rebels,” she whispers.

“Oh, no, our shielding is fine,” Zonk practically screeches. “I told Hayes-”

Re-covering his mouth, T’Pree suggests, “Now is not the time.”

Pushing her hand away, he hisses, “No, the time was three months ago, when I practically begged-”

Grabbing his wrists with one hand, she again covers his mouth. “I’m trying to listen. I suggest you do the same.”

He stills.

Suddenly, they’re dragged out, and T’Pree kicks her dragger across the face when he tries to pull her away from Zonk, and making a strangled sound, Zonk bites his dragger and scrambles back over to T’Pree.

“Huh,” one of the Bajoran says. “A Ferengi. He might be useful. Put him with the Klingon, Xindi, and the kids. Leave the Vulcan-”

“No, wait, I’m really not useful,” Zonk protests. “I’m the fifth son of-”

T’Pree leaps up, snaps the arm each of the invaders is using to hold their weapon, and once the weapons fall onto the floor, she pushes one across the room and grabs the Bajoran by the throat. “Touch him, and-”

“T’Pree,” Zonk softly says with a tug on her trousers. “T’Pree, only defence. I’m angry and scared, too, but we aren’t like them.”

Aiming a phraser rifle at her, a Cardassian says, “Listen to him, Vulcan. Use your _logic_.”

Cocking her head, T’Pree releases the Bajoran and scoots Zonk back under the table with her foot.

“Good, now-”

Ducking, T’Pree rolls across the floor, stands up, dodges a young Cardassian’s attempts to hit her, disarms him, and places him in a chokehold. Staring at the shocked Cardassian leader, she calmly states, “Abductive reasoning. He’s your son. I’ve always called myself a follower of Surak’s teachings, but this attack has disturbed my physiological chemistry. I am scared and angry. Now, I imagine you’re used to dealing with _Federation_ Vulcans and those in high positions on Vulcan society. They’re trained to withstand stress of such magnitude. I’m not. I’m a nobody orphan with little future on my home planet. And you’ve threatened me and the closet thing I’ve had to an actual friend in a long time. Shoot me, and your son dies. If you and every other attacker fails to disarm in fifteen seconds, he dies.”

She begins tightening her grip.

…

While the patrons are being tended to by Federation officers, Zonk crawls under the table. “Remember what happened on Hayes’s 22nd birthday?”

Jumping, T’Pree looks over.

Slowly, Zonk touches her hand. “I know you’re emotional right now, and I promise, that’ll soon be fixed. Until it can be, however, it’s better your emotions are positive and happy, right?”

She nods. “That Betazoid child consistently beat you at that card game, Go Fish.” Laughing softly, she quickly hides her smile underneath her hands.

“Yes, a Betazoid. She was reading my mind!”

“Betazoids cannot read Fergeni minds.”

“So they claim. Well, then, she might have been reading yours.”

“After the third game, I sat away from you, on the opposite side.”

“Somebody else’s, then,” Zonk grumbles. “Or she was extremely lucky.”

“I warned you not to bet your Orion harp.”

He sighs. “All’s well that ends well.”

Abruptly, she looks over. “Are you- What I did-” She flounders.

Squeezing her hand, he shakes his head. “You’re my closest friend, T’Pree, and because of you, this whole café is safe. I wish I could be as brave and strong as you were.”

“Physically, I was strong. I wasn’t brave.”

“Yes, you were,” he quietly insists. “You put yourself in physical danger and spoke your mind in order to try to save others.”

“My mother was a dissident,” she blurts out, “who-”

Tightening his hold on her hand, Zonk says, “T’Pree, no. I’d like it if you decided to tell me more about your life before you enrolled in Ja’tr university someday, but not like this. Do you remember the first time we talked?”

She smiles. “Yes. I’m forever grateful for your kindness.”

“It wasn’t really kindness, so much as I thought-”

Another Vulcan face pops underneath the table. “Hello,” she greets. “I’m Dr T’Vala.”

Moving slightly in front of T’Pree, Zonk quickly says, “We’re both fine, doctor. My friend- has reservations about the Federation. Please, just-”

“I apologise for interrupting, but I’m with the Suurok-class ship, T’Hath. We received this café’s automated distress signal. While we’re assisting the Federation, no member of my crew is a Federation member.”

They carefully crawl out, and T’Pree helps Zonk stand.

…

On the T’Hath, Dr T’Vala looks at T’Pree ad Zonk’s clasped hands. “I understand your friend’s presence might be a comfort to you, but part of the reason doctors often insist on seeing patients over a certain age on their own or with another medical professional to chaperone is to attempt to ensure the patient will utilise the confidentiality guaranteed, if necessary. If Mr Zonk wishes, he can wait right outside sickbay.”

Hesitantly, the two let go of one another’s hands.

“I’ll be right out here,” Zonk promises.

“No,” T’Pree says. “See if you can find another doctor to look over you. I did push you under the table with my foot and restraint your wrists. And roughly pull you down.”

“I’m fine,” he gently tells her.

…

“Would you like me to contact one of my nurses?”

“No,” T’Pree answers.

T’Vala begins scanning her. “Whether you are or not is only important on a medical level to me. I’ve heard you’re a follower of Surak. Is this true?”

“Yes. I mediate every night.” She hesitates. “A non-Vulcan doctor once diagnosed me with clinical depression. You won’t find it in my medical file, however.”

“Mood and psychiatric disorders are more common in Vulcans than most of our species will admit,” T’Vala tells her. Taking a sample of blood and saliva, she continues, “I have tentative plans to attend an seminar hosted on Romulus on the subject, and if the opportunity to continue my study under accredited doctors, I will be pursuing it.”

“As it is, I’m not qualified to diagnosis you. Are you seeking treatment and/or on any sort of medication for it?”

“No. I rely on logic,” T’Pree answers. “I do drink sucrose water once a week.”

“You appear physically unharmed. Mediation should quickly restore your stoicism. Would you prefer a vitamin cocktail as well? It’s still being debated whether they truly accelerate the healing process on a physiological level or merely act as a placebo, but I can ensure it will only contain vitamins your body would easily accept, meaning there will be no negative side effects.”

“Yes, please,” T’Pree agrees.

“If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Mr Zonk-”

“He’s my closet friend,” T’Pree interrupts. “Recently, he was married.”

Administering the shot, T’Vala comments, “True emotionlessness is found in very few sentient species. Many have a variation of the phrase, ‘You cannot help what you feel.’ I know as a course of fact this has been true for some of the most disciplined, logical Vulcans. For all we can choose how to react or not react to our emotions, there are times when understanding the cause and the futility of them does nothing to vanish or even significantly dull them.”

“There. I don’t foresee any long-term medical issues arising from this experience. If mediation doesn’t help within a week and you wish to continue following Surak’s path, I recommend you see another doctor.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Sliding on the gurney, T’Pree salutes. “Live long and prosper.”

Returning the salute, T’Vala echoes, “Live long and prosper.”

…

T’Pree finds Zonk waiting outside sickbay. “Did you find another doctor?”

“Yeah, and I’m fine,” he answers. “But I contacted Doringa, and she’s worried sick.”

Giving a terse nod, T’Pree quietly says, “I’d forgotten about her.” Clearing her throat, she adds, “However, I’m sure she’ll be well once she ascertains you are unharmed.”

“Which is why I need to get home as soon as possible. Uh, the transporters in the area aren’t working very well, and I know the university doesn’t allow shuttle landings.”

“I can make other arrangements.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he scolds. “Doringa and I would be happy to have you over while the transporters are being fixed. We have two beds, and our replicator has plenty of vegetarian options! You can choose the more comfortable bed,” he adds with a soft smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but I believe I can quickly find a ship willing to take me. This one might be willing.”

“But- Are you sure? We’d really love to have you, T’Pree.”

“Under different circumstances, I’d likely take you up on your offer, but given my emotional state at the moment, it’s best I be alone as much as possible.”

“Oh. Okay.” Giving her a sad smile, he says, “I understand. Thank care of yourself, though, alright? And call us when you make it back to university.”

“I will. Goodbye, my friend.”

“Goodbye, T’Pree.” He bows his head and leaves.

Once he’s out of sight, T’Pree slips back into sickbay.

“Hello, again,” T’Vala greets.

Sighing, T’Pree rubs at her eyes. “I was wondering if you could possibly help me get back to Ja’tr university.”

…

A week after the attack, on the usual day, Zonk waits.

However, T’Pree never shows up.


End file.
